by Kresley Cole
“I’m not letting you out of this bed,” he told her, “so don’t even think about getting up.”
Ignoring him, she threw her leg over the side. The action nearly felled her. Sharp torment exploded through her every curve and hollow, and she whimpered. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.
“Aleaha?” he said, concern returning. “Is this a game?”
“No game. Please. A knife.”
“But why? Help me understand what’s happening.”
“I have to cut myself.” Soon. Oh, God. Soon.
His eyes narrowed. “Bloodshed is forbidden, Aleaha. You know that. I will not let you spill mine.”
“I don’t want to spill yours,” she admitted weakly. “I want to spill mine.”
He blinked in surprise. “Again, why?”
“I just need a fucking knife! I won’t use it on you, I swear.” The last word left her mouth on a groan. She tried to sit up, to slap him, to force him to understand, but couldn’t. Hurt. So badly. She’d waited too long.
“Aleaha?” His voice was devoid of emotion, his eyes flat.
“Breean. Please. I must.”
“You’re in pain, I can see that, but I can’t aid you until you’ve told me what’s wrong.”
She wasn’t given a chance to respond. He hissed in a breath and jerked away from her, as if he finally understood. “Are you sick? You told me you weren’t infected. Did you lie? Did biting me—”
“No. Not sick. Breean, the knife.” A tear slid down her cheek, followed quickly by another, until there was an unstoppable flood of them. With every second that passed, her pain and swelling increased.
“Tell me why you wish to do something so barbaric as cut yourself. Now!”
The words exploded from her on a desperate breath. If the truth was what he needed to propel him into aiding her, God help them both, she’d give him the truth. “I produce too much blood. I think it has something to do with the way I change forms. And I’ve changed a lot these past few days. Every week or so, I have to cut myself to drain the excess. I tried to drain some last night, but when we . . . in the tub . . .”
“You didn’t change in the tub. I made sure of it.”
“The pleasure, maybe . . . I don’t know. Help me. Please, just help me.” She was babbling, but couldn’t stop. She expected him to leap away from her with revulsion. He continued to stare down at her, something hard in his eyes.
“What happens if you fail to cut yourself?” he asked raggedly.
“I swell. My organs will burst. Knife,” she cried, doubling over. She must have squeezed her eyes shut because the next thing she knew, Breean was hovering over her, teeth bared.
Finally, though, he held a knife, hilt out. “I am giving you this because I would rather deal with the possibility of contaminated blood than watch you suffer. If you are lying . . .”
There would be hell to pay. “Not . . . lying.” She tried to reach out, but her elbow locked in place, too swollen to move. Even her fingers had become unbendable. No. No! “Can’t move. You . . . must do it.”
His eyes widened, and there was the revulsion she’d expected.
That didn’t stop her from continuing; it couldn’t, not if she wanted to survive. “St-stab me. In the thigh. Biggest artery, will drain the most.”
He shook his head violently. “Surely you are jesting. I have killed men for shedding blood, and you want me to stab you?”
“If you don’t, I’ll die.” The more the blood built up, the faster she would destruct. “Hurry. Cut and leave the knife inside. Otherwise, heal too quickly.”
“No.”
“Bree-an. Need to bleed,” she whispered. Then her eyes swelled completely shut, blocking his image. Maybe that was for the best. Now she wouldn’t have to see that revulsion intensify in his golden eyes when he did what was necessary. Or watch when he finally abandoned her.
“There has to be another way.”
If there were another way, she would have found it by now. “No, there’s—” Her jaw clamped and her throat closed, jamming up her airway, her words. Her lungs began to burn and burn and she jerked, every muscle she possessed clenching on bone. Her stomach knotted, rolled. Her nose stung, desperate for air, and the stinging only increased when warm blood began to pour from her nostrils.
“Damn this!” In the next instant, the sheet was whipped away from her, a cool breeze was drifting over her, and a sharp, agonizing pain ripping through her thigh.
Almost immediately her jaw eased and her throat opened and a scream pushed its way free. Breean dug the knife in deep and twisted. He left the tip inside as she’d asked, allowing more and more blood to flow out. With that flow came sweet relief as the pressure inside her lessened, the swelling faded.
Suddenly she could move. Could see Breean hovering over her, his hand curled over the knife hilt. His gaze was fastened on her face, his expression unreadable. Much as he hated blood, she was kind of surprised he hadn’t killed her outright. Instead, he truly had aided her.
As if he sensed her thoughts, he said, “Is this all you need?” No hint of his emotions in his voice, either.
“Yes,” she rasped.
For a long while, he didn’t speak, just watched that crimson liquid trickle onto the sheet. Then he nodded, as if he’d just made a very important decision. She was too afraid to ask what that decision was.
“How long do I bleed you?” he asked.
“Until I pass out.” Even as she spoke, she could feel the darkness slinking into her mind. Sweet oblivion, she thought with relief and then knew nothing else.
Breean pulled the blade from Aleaha’s leg and watched as the wound slowly healed itself, muscle and then flesh weaving back together. Why she still scarred when she healed so swiftly, he could only guess. The front runner: the number of times she’d been forced to do this. A close second: her curative process wasn’t as thorough as it appeared. Either way, this precious female suffered.
Reeling, he cleaned up the blood then burned the rags and sheets before making the bed with Aleaha still in it. She slept through it all, a testament to the brutality of the entire ordeal.
The thought that this woman—or anyone—had to bleed to survive should have been abhorrent to Breean. Was abhorrent. Half of him feared causing another plague, killing the only survivors of his race, because of his actions this day. She could be a carrier for some disease he’d never heard of, never dealt with. But the other half of him didn’t care about the consequences.
He would do whatever was needed to keep this woman alive.
She was his, connected to him on a level he still didn’t understand. When he looked at her, he wanted only to please her. Well, and himself. Hurting her had ripped him up inside, but that had been better than watching her writhe in pain.
“My poor baby,” he cooed, stroking her soft cheek. She hated what she was required to do to live. He’d realized it the moment she confessed, for there had been shame in her voice. She’d also expected him to be disgusted by her, for there had been grim acceptance in her eyes. But he hadn’t been able and still couldn’t work up a single spark of the emotion. Not when his actions had saved her.
From now on, he would help her. Be with her through it all. For there was no going back now. They would be together.
While she slept, he remained at her side. Even when Talon came to inform him that darkness would soon fall and his shift would begin.
“I need a few more minutes,” he said.
“Very well.” Rather than departing, the warrior transfered his weight from one foot to the other. “The others begged me to ask if they might have a turn in town.”
“Of course,” he replied. “They may go in pairs, each returning in an hour.”
Talon was careful to keep his gaze away from Aleaha. “They will be very happy to hear this. Oh, and we have finally properly installed the security system around the property. If AIR invades, you’ll know.”
“Excellent.” When Talon pivoted to leave,
he called, “Tell the men to be careful when choosing their women. They might end up with a wildcat.”
His second in command laughed before disappearing into the hall.
Breean stared down at Aleaha for the rest of his remaining minutes, then stood. Her features were relaxed, the swelling completely gone. He never wanted to see her like that again, hurting so badly. You’re mine. I’ll take care of you now.
Once again, he left her sleeping. Fortunately, his shift proved uneventful and he was able to check on Aleaha multiple times. She never moved from that supine position, and that began to worry him.
When he returned to the room once and for all, he found her sitting up in bed. His relief was palpable. And so was his sudden desire. Her breasts were bare, the sheet around her waist, and her hair tumbled down her back, dark ribbons he wanted to wrap around his fists. Yawning, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Had she only now awakened?
“Feeling better?”
“Breean,” she said on a trembling breath. “Yes. Much. Thank you.”
“I’m glad and you’re welcome,” he told her, rushing to her side, dropping his weapons along the way. Much as he wanted her, he would be a fool to give her such easy access to his knives and guns while near—and intoxicated by—her. He also removed his shirt before caressing her arm, marveling at the smoothness. See? Intoxicated. “Now, there’s something we need to finish.”
Her gaze flicked to him, widened, then moved to her legs. “The blood—”
“Is gone,” he assured her.
Shock curtained her entire face. “Why did you clean me instead of kill me?”
“I do not want to kill you.” He crawled in beside her, then rolled on top of her. She gasped but didn’t try to push him away. “I want to make love to you.”
EIGHT
THE FEEL OF BREEAN’S MUSCLED WEIGHT PINNING HER into the mattress was amazing, Aleaha thought, dazed. More amazing? He still desired her. After everything he’d witnessed, after everything he’d had to do, he still desired her. She could feel the length of his erection, thick and hot against her thigh.
“But I’m an abomination to you,” she whispered, afraid to place her hope in this enemy who wasn’t really an enemy. “Aren’t you disgusted by me?”
“You make me feel many things, sweetie pie, but disgust isn’t one of them.”
She felt herself melting, falling under his spell. Already he’d satisfied her in ways she’d never thought possible. But she couldn’t let herself forget that AIR agents were locked in his dungeon. How selfish would she be to luxuriate in his arms while they merely endured? Well, to luxuriate again.
She’d been a little too selfish lately, taking Macy’s identity, living a life she hadn’t been meant to live. Yes, Macy had died before she’d taken over, and probably wouldn’t care about the changes she’d made—or perhaps Macy was even now looking down (up?) at her and wishing her to everlasting hell—but those agents had become her friends.
“Breean,” she said, pushing at his chest. She could have cried at the distance she gained.
“Aleaha,” he said, not allowing the distance to last. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head. A favorite position of his, obviously. Her back immediately arched, mashing her breasts into his chest. Her nipples were already hard and rubbed against him.
“This is wrong,” she breathed. “We have to stop.”
“You cannot stop a fire once it has been ignited.” He rotated his pelvis, and she hissed in a breath when his cock slid across her clit, then anchored her legs to the mattress with his own.
Her hiss blended with his. “Actually, you can. With water.”
“Then we’ll stay away from the water. Now, do you want to talk or finish this?”
As she looked up at him, desire swirled in his golden eyes, almost a living entity, beckoning her to give in. Just one time. But one time wouldn’t be enough, not for an addict like her. And, oh, was she an addict. She’d had a taste and now craved more.
“T-talk,” she forced herself to say.
“Liar. But that’s all right.” His tongue swiped over his lips. Was he imagining tasting her? “I will talk with you, too.”
“From opposite sides of the room.”
He shook his head. “Just like this.”
Thank God for stubborn men. If he’d left her, she might have stabbed him. “What about the agents?”
“I won’t release them,” he said darkly. “I told you. That would put my own men at risk.”
“Well, you can’t keep them locked away forever.”
“I can, however, use them as bargaining tools. A life for a life.”
They must do things differently on Raka, because she doubted “bargaining” would work out for him. Not favorably, at least. “You might want to rethink that. You’ll go to trade and receive a death sentence.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. Until something can be arranged, however, I want you to know that I will not hurt them. That was never my intention.”
“Until something can be arranged could take forever. They should be home with their families.”
“And they will be. Soon.”
“Now.”
“First, I must ensure AIR will keep its end of the bargain.” He didn’t give her time to respond, but quickly changed the subject. “No matter what happens in this room, no matter what we say or do to each other, I want you to know that you will never have to cut yourself again. I will take care of you from now on, and I will tell no one your secrets.”
She opened her mouth to return them to the agents, but his words sank in and he won a little piece of her heart. No more hiding? No more being afraid someone would find out who and what she was? Amazing. And that this man would be the one responsible for her liberation . . . “I can’t ask that of you.”
“You aren’t asking. I’m simply doing.” One of his hands moved from her wrists and curled around her nape, forcing her head to lift slightly. He bowed his back, placing her gaze on his chest, just above his nipple, all the while pulling her mouth closer. “And now we have talked,” he said, voice husky, rich. “Ready for the loving to begin?”
He planned to release the agents “soon,” which meant she had two choices. She could wait until he did so to be with him. Or she could be with him now, knowing she could lose him during the exchange if AIR decided not to work with him.
Actually, as she’d warned, that seemed most likely. They could very well agree to his demands, then start firing the moment the agents were free. Honor was for those who wanted to lose their loved ones, she’d heard Mia Snow say more than once.
Should she do everything in her power to convince Breean of the truth of her claim? No, she thought next. If she did, he might decide to keep the agents forever, and that she couldn’t allow.
“Aleaha,” he said, claiming her attention. He was watching her expectantly, desire still swirling in those golden eyes. “Decide.”
He was a good man. An honorable man despite his assurances to the contrary, and his plans, if successful, would provide a happily-ever-after for everyone. Aleaha was not like Mia Snow. She respected honor. I want to be with him now, she thought. She would be selfish one more time. Otherwise, she might not ever know what it was like to be his woman, truly be his woman, and she had to know.
“I don’t know.” She flicked out her tongue, meeting his skin and trailing it over his thundering heartbeat. “What if I change? You’re not inside me this time.” Wait. That hadn’t sounded right. “I mean, you’re not—”
“I know what you meant. I won’t mind if you change.”
“Even if I become a man? Or you? I know it didn’t bother you in the forest, but that was only for a second and it could surprise you, feeling dangly bits, and you could toss me—”
“Aleaha.” Dark desperation rang from his tone. He rolled them over, placing her on top. “Give me a chance to prove myself before you condemn me.” He smiled slowly, sheepishly as she settled against him. “Righ
t now, I need you. You, no matter who you are or what you look like.”
There went another little piece of her heart. His words were a mix of soothing balm and white-hot embers of arousal. Being with him was no longer a need. It was a necessity. “I’ve decided,” she said.
“And?”
“And I don’t know why you’re still talking.” Trembling, she inched down his chest, not stopping until his navel came into view. She licked again, and his muscles clenched.
“Thank you. Yes. More.” He was babbling. She liked that.
Lower . . . lower . . . she continued to move. His cock strained high and proud, drawing her full attention. Mine. His golden balls were drawn up tight. She tilted her head and allowed her teeth to graze his inner thigh. The cool press of his skin was an electrifying contradiction to her hot tongue.
“Shall I kiss you here?”
“Anywhere,” he croaked.
“Free rein. I like that.” Unable to stop herself, she curled her hand around his testicles and sank her mouth on his shaft, taking him deep, all the way to the back of her throat. Her jaw stretched wide, burned.
“Yes,” Breean roared. “Yes.”
She moaned, somehow feeling as if he were sinking his fingers deep inside her. Then her eyes widened as she realized that yes, she was feeling his fingers, phantom fingers, pumping in and out of her. Closing her eyes at the bliss, she sucked him up and down, writhing her hips all the while. Don’t switch bodies, don’t switch bodies.
“Don’t stop.” He grabbed her and swiveled her around, keeping her mouth on his dick while placing her moist clit right over his face. With barely a pause, he licked her, first the outer shell, then inside, probing.
“Breean!” The sensations were too much, not enough, and her physical form began to lengthen. She forced herself to still, forced her mind to blank. Breath singed her lungs. “I’m changing. I—”
“Just let yourself go, sweet. You taste so good, and I know the woman underneath. I told you. I don’t care who you are or what form you have.”
As she gave him yet another piece of her heart, something broke inside her. Tension, guilt, fear. She simply allowed herself to fly, relaxing into whatever form her body happened to take. At first, she changed into one person after another, never maintaining a certain image for more than a few seconds. Through it all, Breean continued to kiss and caress her, not once pulling away in disgust.